


A Toad and a Halfa

by Kree_Minory



Category: Danny Phantom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Golden Trio, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17888180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kree_Minory/pseuds/Kree_Minory
Summary: A first class with Umbridge scene with a sleep deprived Danny.





	A Toad and a Halfa

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter and a significant amount of the below text belong to J. K. Rowling.

Danny sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class for the year. He’d been up late working on homework. Trying to, anyway. Whenever he managed to make progress, another ghost would come into the library, and later the Gryffindor common room, to congratulate him on coming to Hogwarts and to thank him over and over again for defeating Pariah Dark.

He’d finally asked Sir Nickolas to keep them out so he could make progress on his schoolwork and later, sleep. That and he was uncomfortable with all the weird looks he was getting because of all the ghosts seemingly strange desire to talk to him.

Unfortunately, Peeves had decided to get as close as he could to Gryffindor Tower before flying away, cackling madly every time Danny finally managed to fall asleep. Fortunately, the halfa caught the poltergeist around two-thirty. But by that point he couldn’t get back to sleep because of Ron’s snoring.

He gave up on sleep and went to the common room to work on his homework. When Hermione came down around six, she found the halfa fast asleep on his schoolwork in front of the fire.

When Ginny came down after Fred and George woke him up, the irate girl threatened Ron to keep track of the tired boy or else.

So the Golden Trio was guiding a half-asleep halfa to classes. A somewhat paranoid, very tired, rather easily startled halfa.

The moment Danny sat down, he put his head on his desk and fell asleep.

“Blimey,” Ron muttered, staring at the sleeping boy. “Did he stay up all night?”

“He came up to bed with us, remember?” Harry whispered back.

“When I came down this morning, he was using his _History of Magic_ book as a pillow,” Hermione said. “His Potions essay was lying almost done next to it.”

“No wonder he fell asleep,” Ron snorted, “History of Magic puts anyone to sleep.”

“His book was closed, Ron,” Hermione replied shortly.

Before they could continue, their current DADA teacher cleared her throat delicately at the front of the classroom.

Danny shifted in his sleep and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Sorry, Ember, I don’t know who put out your hair.” Or, it would have if anyone had been listening. All of the other students were focused on Umbridge.

“Good afternoon, class,” she chirped.

She received a mumbled reply from the class, including a “Sorry Lunch Lady, don’t have time” from Danny.

Hermione, who was sitting next to him, caught the muttered remark and looked at him strangely before shrugging it off, believing she’d misheard.

“Tut, tut,” said Professor Umbridge. “That won’t do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

This time the students replied with a chorus of “Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.”

No one caught Danny’s “Leave me alone Kitty. Make up with Johnny.”

“There, now,” said Umbridge sweetly. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away, quills out, please.”

“In your dreams Walker,” Danny muttered as he shifted again.

This time, Hermione heard him clearly, though thankfully Umbridge didn’t. _What in the world is he dreaming about?_ she wondered.

While they were pulling out quills and parchment, Umbridge took out her own wand and waved it at the board, causing the chalk to rise and write:

**Defense Against the Dark Arts**

**A Return to Basic Principles**

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” stated Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, (“Stupid Obervants, leave me alone.”) has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O. W. L. year.

“You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered,” Umbridge continued.

Danny shuddered, muttering, “Ghost Writer, stop rhyming, your book is fine.”

Hermioned saw Harry and Ron glance at him before turning back to Umbridge.

“Ministry-approved,” Umbridge went on with her speech, completely ignorant of the interruption, “course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

As she waved her wand at the board, several student heard Danny nearly growl, “I won’t help you write it, Writer. Orange!” They shared confused and worried glances before looking back at the board to write down the coarse aims.

**Course aims:**

**1\. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.**

**2\. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.**

**3\. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.**

Hermione raised her hand after glancing, concerned, at the halfa sleeping next to her, before fixing her gaze firmly on the teacher.

“What is your name?” Umbridge asked sweetly.

“Go away Klemper,” Danny said quietly.

Hermione lowered her hand and kept her eyes on Umbridge. “Hermione Granger,” she answered.

“Yes, Miss Granger, what is your question?”

“The course aims don’t say anything about _using_ spells.”

“Exactly Dora.”

“ _Using_ defensive spells?” Professor Umbridge repeated with a laugh. (“Skulker, you look like a frog without your suit.”) “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. (“Fright Knight’s not so scary without Soul Shredder. Get me a pumpkin.” Those closest to Danny to hear his mutterings were starting to question his sanity. They were also finding it difficult not to laugh, despite what Umbridge was saying.) You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”

“We’re not going to use magic?” Ron said loudly, now focused completely on Umbridge.

“Johnny, if you didn’t take it, this wouldn’t happen.”

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.-?”

“Weasley,” said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge’s pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.

“Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?”

“Yes,” said Hermione. “Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“C’m on, Frostbite, my aim is better.”

“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.

“No, but-”

“Wish they’d leave you alone, huh, Clockwork?”

“Well then, I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-”

“Shut _up_ , Technus!”

“What use is that?” said Harry loudly, partly to keep her from noticing Danny. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be in a-”

” _Hand,_ Mr. Potter!” sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

“And your name is?” Professor Umbridge said to Dean.

“Dean Thomas.”

“Well, Mr. Thomas?”

“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” said Dean. If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free-”

“Stupid Fruitloop,” Danny muttered while Umbridge interrupted.

“I repeat,” she said, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, “do you expect to be attacked during my classes?”

“Literally or figuratively?” Danny said just loud enough for everyone to hear. Fortunately for him, Umbridge ignored him in favor of Dean.

“No, but-”

Professor Umbridge talked over him.

“I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school,” she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, “but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

“Get a cat Plasmius.”

“If you mean Professor Lupin,” piped up Dean Thomas angrily, “he was the best we ever-”

“ _Hand_ , Mr. Thomas! As I was saying – you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-”

“Leave us _alone_ , Fruitloop.”

“No we haven’t,” Hermione said, “we just-”

“ _Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!_ ”

Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

“It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on_ you-”

“Well, her turned out to be a maniac, didn’t he?” said Dean Thomas hotly. “Mind you, we still learned loads-”

“ _Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!_ ” trilled Professor Umbridge.

“You really need a new line Skulker.”

“Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?” she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.

“Parvati Patil, and isn’t there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren’t we supposed to actually do the countercurses and things?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,” said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

“That’s staying downstairs, right Mom?”

“Without ever practicing them before?” said Parvati incredulously. “Are you telling us that the first time we’ll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”

“I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough-”

“And what good’s that going to be in the real world,” said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.

Professor Umbridge looked up.

“This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world,” she said softly.

“Since I’m from the Real World, I don’t know any of your stupid rules, Walker, so drop it.”

“So we’re not supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there?”

“There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point.

“Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

“In what order would you like my list?” Danny asked. “Order of encounter, alphabetical, or most often?”

“Hmm, let’s think…” said Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, “maybe _Lord Voldemort_?”

Ron gasped; Lavender Brown uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool. Danny sat bolt upright and fell off his stool, now fully awake. Professor Umbrige, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter.”

Danny looked around, confused, to see that class had started and no one had woken him up. He hoped he didn’t have detention for that.

The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry. “Now, let me make a few things quite plain.”

Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk.

“You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead-"

“He wasn’t dead,” said Harry angrily, “but yeah, he’s returned!”

 _Great,_ Danny thought, _I got woken up in the middle of a fight about not-quite dead people._

“Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,” said Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie_.”

“It is NOT a lie!” said Harry. “I saw him, I fought him!”

“Detention, Mr. Potter!” said Professor Umbridge triumphantly. “Tomorrow evening. Five o’clock. My office. I repeat, _this is a lie_. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in any danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend.”

Danny raised his hand before she could finish.

She gave him a slightly irritated look but called on him anyway, “Yes, Mr.…”

“Fenton, Danny Fenton,” Danny replied. “I’m not really worried about Dark wizards.”

“Very good, then,” Professor Umbridge tried to continue her lesson.

“But,” Danny went on, “where I’m from, we suffer from daily attacks. If you’re not going to teach a practical class practically, how are we supposed to learn to defend ourselves from the various dangers that life is going to throw at us. Because knowing my luck, I’m not only going to run into some guy that’s supposed to be dead, but I’m going to end up at the mercy of a dementor or the teeth of a werewolf. Knowing how to defend ourselves is a really necessary thing.”

Professor Umbridge looked livid. The rest of the class was looking at Danny in awe; they were sure that he’d been asleep, but he was talking like he’d been listening to the whole thing. Unknown to them, he fell asleep in class so much, he’d learned how to listen in his sleep. He might not remember exactly who said what, but he sure can get the gist. Helped him pass his classes back home.

“Besides that,” Danny went on after a pause, “with you repeating that some Dark wizard isn’t back from the dead and saying that if anything against what you’re saying is heard to report to you, it sounds like you’re spouting bad propaganda so you don’t have to face the truth.”

The classroom was dead silent. Professor Umbridge was shaking. The other students were looking at Danny with something between respect, awe, and curiosity.

“Mr. Fenton,” she said at last. “Mr. Potter, come here.”

The two dark haired boys shared a look before getting up. Professor Umbridge pulled a roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started scribbling, hunched over so neither boy could see what she was writing. Harry was angry, but Danny seemed rather unconcerned about the whole thing.

Nobody spoke. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself seamlessly so that they could not open it.

“Take that to Professor McGonagall, dear,” said Professor Umbridge, holding it out to Harry. He took it without a word and turned to leave. When he got to the door, he looked over his shoulder to see if Danny was behind him.

The halfa was indeed right behind him. However, he pushed Harry out the door before turning around himself and saying, “Trying to shut me up won’t work. I’m from America, and I have the right to say what I want. That you’re trying to shut me up just says that you’re scared of what I’m saying because you like hiding behind lies to protect yourself from the truth that karma is going to come and kick you in the teeth so hard that you won’t be able to pull yourself back together in time to put yourself on the right side so you can keep your job.” Then he left and shut the classroom door before she could say another word.

After a couple of minutes walking to Professor McGonagall’s office, Harry spoke. “You know, I think she hates you more than me right now.”

Danny smiled. “Yep, I know.”

“Why did you do that?”

He simply shrugged. “She reminds me of a couple of people back home who don’t like me very much. I didn’t really think about it at all.”

When they reached Professor McGonagall’s office, Harry knocked and they both waited.

“Mr. Potter,” she said when she answered the door. “Mr. Fenton. What are you boys doing here?”

“Umbridge doesn’t like us very much,” Danny told her cheerfully. “I don’t think she expects us to come back for the rest of class.”

Professor McGonagall just stared at the boy. Harry sighed and held out the note. “Professor Umbridge sent us from class.”

She took the note from him, frowning, slit it open with a tap from her wand, stretched it out and began to read. Her eyes zoomed from sided to side behind their square spectacles as she read what Umbridge had written, and with each line they became narrower.

Danny yawned as she read, hoping she would hurry so he could get back to bed.

“Come in here, Potter, Fenton.”

They followed her into her study. The door closed behind them and Danny sat in a chair, falling asleep almost instantly. He did not hear McGonagall’s speech to Harry about behaving, not did he hear Harry leave. In fact, it was only when the old professor turned around to get back to what she had been doing that she realized that she had forgotten about the other black haired teen.

She thought about waking him up for a moment before remembering what Sir Nick had told her last night about the boy probably not getting a lot of sleep, most likely because of Peeves. Frowning, she realized that she had not seen or heard of the poltergeist bothering anyone so far today. She spared another moment to look at the sleeping halfa before going back to work. She would write him a pass to his other classes. For now, the boy obviously needed sleep.

Danny was oblivious to it all, dreaming of flying around Amity Park and Hogwarts, doing aerial tricks and using his powers to add an occasional flourish without a care.

 

 


End file.
